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PASSION PLAYLETS 



PASSION PLAYLETS 



BY 

JOHN JEX 




THE CORNHILL COMPANY 
BOSTON 



A^ 






K^ 



Copyright, 1918 
THE CORNHILL COMPANY 



•'VIOLET SOULS" 

Copyright 1914 by John Jex 

under title 

' ' The Corespondent " 

"MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS" 
Copyright by John Jex. 1916 

THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 

Copyright by John Jex, 1913 

under title 

"The Span" 



Copyright, 1918, by John Jex, as dramatic composition, "The 

Passion Playlets." All rights reserved, including 

that of translation into foreign languages 



!V-7 1318 

©aA5()6589 



CONTENTS 

PAG£ 

Violet Souls 3 

The Nest 41 

Mr. Willoughby Calls 67 

The Unnecessary Atom 95 



VIOLET SOULS 
A Satire 



PASSION PLAYLETS 



VIOLET SOULS 

The curtain rises on an elaborately furnished bedroom, the 
color scheme for which includes as many shades of violet as can 
be conveniently or otherwise procured. It could not be the bed- 
room of any wealthy woman; it must be Mrs. Hamilton Van 
Braam Trainees bedroom. Mrs. H. Van B. Traine has a 
violet soul. 

I might state, for the enlightenment of those humble readers 
who have not become educated by mixing with the elite, that 
only our multimillionaires can afford to possess violet souls. 
Artists sometimes claim to be blessed with them, but theirs are 
rarely, if ever, genuine. Any one possessing a violet soul must 
also possess a town house, a country house, a chateau in France, 
a couple of seagoing yachts, a dozen automobiles, and every- 
thing else one can think of, all designed and decorated to har- 
monize with the soul. 

I do not know where violet souls originate, but I do know 
that they exist — and I also know that they are subject to a 
malady commonly called dissatisfaction, which is the fore- 
runner of that social disease termed divorce. 

It is little wonder that I forget the scene when speaking of 
such things as violet souls! But — the scene must be completed 
before you can be admitted to the sacred coterie. It is, then, a 
bedroom into which we look, — a bedroom with a canopied bed 
which contains nothing less and little more than Mrs. Hamil- 



4 PASSION PLAYLETS 

ton Van Braam Traine herself. I say that the bed contains 
little more than Mrs. Traine herself because Mrs. H. Van B. T. 
is quite lightly, almost shockingly, clad in a filmy violet robe- 
de-chambre. 

There should be a dressing-table somewhere in the room, be- 
cause Josephine, the maid, from both Paris and London, is 
heating Mrs. Trainees curling-iron in an electric heater, — 
and electric curling-iron heaters do not usually repose upon 
the floor — in the very best homes. 

There must, of course, be a French casement, almost hidden 
by exquisite " drapes,'' against which our leading lady can 
pose sometimes, during the course of the play. 

Two doorways will be quite enough to enable me to get the 
characters on and of the scene, and give them reasonable ex- 
cuses for coming and going. I cannot, for example, take as 
many liberties as my more worthy contemporaries and send 
the maid through the same doorway every time she exits, no 
matter whether she goes to fetch madame's breakfast or her 
dancing-slippers . Mrs. Hamilton Van Braam Traine does 
not lend her dancing-slippers to the cook to wear to garden- 
parties. Mrs. Traine lives in Fifth Avenue; she does not live 
just off the Avenue. It has, perhaps, taken her a long time to 
get into the Avenue; so we must not forget that she is there. 

There are two more characters in the play: Ferdinand 
Czibulka, an Hungarian violinist, whom Mrs. Traine is im- 
porting duty free, and Hamilton, Mrs. T.'s husband in the 
eyes of the law. I may as well be frank and inform you that 
Hamilton is not Mrs. Trainees soul-mate; Hamilton is her 
husband — and a bank president. Bank presidents, of course, 
never possess violet souls. As for Ferdinand, — well, — on 
with the play! 



VIOLET SOULS 



MRS. TRAINE 



Place another pillow under my head, Josephine. 

Josephine, a good servant, obeys instantly, and Mrs. 
Traine, now sitting erect in the bed, takes up an illustrated 
French magazine, to read — the illustrations. The jokes are 
funny and the illustrations clever. But why do the jokesmiths 
always use words not found in the best English- French dic- 
tionaries? Mrs. Traine cannot understand it. Mrs. Traine 
cannot understand the jokes. Perhaps the light from the 
lamp, on the stand beside the bed, does not fall directly upon 
her magazine. A single sigh will bring the maid. 

Oh dear! 

JOSEPHINE 

What does madame wish? 

MRS. TRAINE 

There's something wrong with the light. 
The maid turns the lamp around, reducing the amount of 
light upon the magazine about one-half. 
That is much better, Josephine. 

JOSEPHINE 

Madame is restless this morning. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I did not sleep well last night. 

JOSEPHINE 

A cup of tea might quiet your nerves 



6 PASSION PLAYLETS 

MRS. TRAINE 

I have been thinking about poor little To Wi. 

JOSEPHINE 

You must not think about To Wi, madame. He was a 
dear — but he is dead and gone — and you cannot help 
him now. 

MRS. TRAINE 

He was such a love ! 

JOSEPHINE 

He was a sweet little dog, madame. 

Mrs. Traine feels that she really should shed tears for the 
dear departed dog, but the clever maid cannot stand calmly 
aside and see her mistress's make-up washed away in a second. 
Mistress and maid worked together for a whole hour to get that 
make-up on just right. 

Please do not cry, madame. I shall never get you ready 
to receive the gentleman. Your eyes will be all red and 
swollen. The steamship will surely dock before I can get 
you ready. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Do you suppose that curling-iron will ever get hot? 

JOSEPHINE 

It will not get hot if you keep on calling me. Each time 
you call I have to take it out of the heater. 

Mrs. Traine sighs and sinks down among the pillows; but 
of course she cannot rest, — she slept soundly all night and 
it's now past ten in the morning. 



VIOLET SOULS 7 

MRS. TRAINE 

Is the fog Still thick, Josephine? 

Josephine tiptoes to the window and looks out. She does 
not draw hack the curtains; she sticks her head between them. 
Josephine is not afraid of daylight, hut then, she has no violet 
soul like her mistress, 

JOSEPHINE 

The fog is still very thick. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Poor Ferdie! 

It is ohvious that the fog strikes terror to her heart, — and no 
wonder, when we consider that Ferdinand Czihulka, one of the 
greatest violinists in Budapest, is due to arrive this very 
morning. 

Mrs. Traine captured Ferdinand sometime during her last 
stay on the Continent, and — think of it! — when Ferdi- 
nand discovered that she had money, he agreed, after much per- 
suasion, to come to America and live with the Hamilton Van 
Braam Traines for an indefinite period. Hamilton does not 
know this, — hut then, there are also many other things which 
Hamilton does not know. A man with millions cannot take 
the time to discover what his wife is doing. 

A JOSEPHINE 

The gentleman will not arrive today? 

MRS. TRAINE 

I'm afraid that the steamship is fog-bound. 

JOSEPHINE 

They may all be held at quarantine, as I was. 



8 PASSION PLAYLETS 

MRS. TRAINE 

Quarantine? No, no, they shall not quarantine Ferdie! 
He will die if he cannot practise his music. Oh, why do 
you think of such terrible things, Josephine? I was so 
overstrung anyway — and now — you — you — 

JOSEPHINE 

It was merely a suggestion, madame. It was merely a 
suggestion. 

MRS. TRAINE 

There is no more horrible picture that you could suggest 
to my mind. Think of it! — the great Ferdinand Czibulka 
detained in that miserable little quarantine station. Oh, 
it is horrible! 

JOSEPHINE 

They will doubtless set him free, madame. 

MRS. TRAINE 

They shall free him! I shall see to it that he is not 
detained there for a single minute. The very idea of such 
a thing is preposterous. 

Her body is convulsed with sobs and the maid must swiftly 
shift the conversation. 

JOSEPHINE 

What a great man he is. He seems to be well known 
the world over. I have seen his name on the bill-boards in 
London. 

MRS. TRAINE 

How they adore him over there! 

JOSEPHINE 

Oh yes, madame, he is great. 



VIOLET SOULS 9 

MRS. TRAINE 

He is wonderful. He plays divinely. 

JOSEPHINE 

My mistress went simply mad over him. She had his 
pictures in every room of the house — everywhere. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Anxiously. 

Did your mistress know him — well? 

JOSEPHINE 

Oh, no, — that is, he never came to the house; — but 
when I was in Budapest with Lady Florence she sent him 
flowers every day. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Pink roses? 

JOSEPHINE 

Yes, madame. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I remember them. He used to ship them right off to the 
hospitals. He detests anything pink. 

JOSEPHINE 

It was good of him, madame, to make the poor sick people 
happy. 

MRS. TRAINE 

What would cheer them would annoy him. He lives 
always in a world of beautifully blended colors. 



10 PASSION PLAYLETS 

JOSEPHINE 

Curling Mrs. Trainees hair with the iron. 

When I was in Paris, before I went to London, my mis- 
tress, Madame Frochot, used to rave about him, too — all 
the time. I always knew when he was in town — she gave 
me so many days out. 

MRS. TRAINE 

You stupid girl, that iron is too hot! 
It is not the iron which hums her. Josephine is such an 
innocent little maid! 

JOSEPHINE 

I am so sorry, madame. It shall not happen again. 

MRS. TRAINE 

You must stop. I can't have you near me this morn- 
ing. You make me nervous. Arrange my gowns, or — or 
do anything you like — provided you keep at a distance. 

JOSEPHINE 

The gowns are all ready for you, madame — all just as 
you wish them. I am sure that the great artist will say he 
has never seen so many beautiful shades of violet before. 
You will be a picture, madame, — all the time. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Put on my stockings, Josephine. Mr. Traine is so 
American that he might think it strange if I welcomed my 
guest without them. 

The maid fetches the stockings and kneels beside the bed. 
Mrs. Traine has one pale pink foot exposed when Hamilton ^ 
brute of a husband that he is, enters unannounced and causes 
her to blush crimson. 



VIOLET SOULS ii 

HAMILTON 

Good morning, my dear! 

Mrs. Trainees icy stare would seem to he sufficient rebuke , 
— hut then, Hamilton must he taught, here and now, that no 
husband of modern times has the authority to enter his wife's 
bedroom unbidden. 

MRS. TRAINE 

How dare you enter this room without permission! 
How dare you shame me Hke this before a servant! 

HAMILTON 

I didn't think, dear. I promise to be very careful in 
future — tho' you must admit that I have seen your feet 
at the seashore — particularly when you bathed without 
stockings in France. 

He remembers her bathing-suit well. It is quite likely 
that he carried it from the hotel to the bath-house in his vest- 
pocket. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Stop! I refuse to have my limbs discussed. You shock 
me beyond measure, Hamilton. 

She sinks down among the pillows with a self-satisfied smile. 
She surely has made Hamilton realize that he is merely her 
husband. 

HAMILTON 

You look very charming this morning. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Could you have thought of anything more bromidic! 
You are such a silly flatterer. 



12 PASSION PLAYLETS 

HAMILTON 

You are mistaken, dear; I am an admiring acquaintance. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I wish you would not annoy me further. I am anxious 
to dress, Hamilton. If I had thought that there was any 
danger of my husband intruding I'd surely have ordered 
Josephine to lock the door. 

HAMILTON 

It's a gray morning — and perhaps you didn't sleep 
soundly. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I miss little To Wi. I am desperately lonely without 
him. I almost go mad at night. 

HAMILTON 

If you go to the Orient next year you can get another dog. 

MRS. TRAINE 

There never could be another little To Wi. 

HAMILTON 

rU admit that he was a nice enough canine — although he 
was always in the way ; but other people have pets which 
they love as dearly as you did To Wi. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Don't upset me, Hamilton. To Wi was the only lamb 
child in the world. 



VIOLET SOULS 13 

HAMILTON 

Child? He was a pretty good animal — Vm not saying 
that he wasn't — only he was not big enough for a kennel 
and he didn't belong in the house — or in bed. 

MRS. TRAINE 

How can you say such things when you know my heart 
is breaking? Have you no pity? 

HAMILTON 

I'll not speak of him again — ever. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Ferdie, my musician, should be here by noon, at the very 
latest. 

HAMILTON 

Do you call him Ferdie? 

MRS. TRAINE 

Of course I do. You will address him as Czibulka — 

HAMILTON 

But, my dear, I am an American, and such names are — 

MRS. TRAINE 

If you are so ignorant, you might write it on a slip of 
paper and memorize it at your leisure. You might also 
accustom yourself to the name of Czegled. 

HAMILTON 

Czegled? Is that really a name? 



14 PASSION PLAYLETS 

MRS. TRAINE 

It is the name of the town in which he was born. 

HAMILTON 

It must be a great city! Czibulka and Czegled. So the 
whole family is coming. 

MRS. TRAINE 

You silly fellow, Czegled is Ferdie's child — and he's 
wonderful. 

HAMILTON 

I didn't know that your musician was even married. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Of course he's not married — he's far too clever for that. 
Czegled is his toy poodle. Oh, he is such a dear, too, — 
just about the size To Wi was. 

HAMILTON 

I'll arrange for the valet to look after the dog. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Ferdie would not allow it. Czegled is with his father 
always — except, of course, when Ferdie plays at concerts; 
then he is petted by the ladies in the dressing-room. 

HAMILTON 

No sooner do we get rid of one dog than another arrives. 

MRS. TRAINE 

If we must quarrel, Hamilton, — 



VIOLET SOULS 15 



HAMILTON 

A thousand apologies, my dear, if the fault is mine. I 
shall not speak of either To Wi or Czegled again. 

He lights a cigarette — thoughtlessly — although Mrs. T. 
smokes in this room whenever she wishes — and that is often. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Please do not smoke. You forget that this is my bedroom. 

Hamilton discards the cigarette meekly, very meekly. 

You act very strangely this morning, Hamilton. Your 
pet, the stock-market, has been open for half an hour and 
still you will not leave me. 

HAMILTON 

My car isn't here. I left orders downstairs for them to 
call me as soon as it came. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I forgot to tell you that you would have to use my car 
this morning. I sent yours for Ferdie. 

HAMILTON 

You don't seem to realize what might happen to us if the 
bottom dropped out of the market sometime when I was 
absent from the office. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Witness how the very mention of money bruises a genuine 
violet soul: 

The stock-market! Money! Have you no ideals? 
Have you no soul? Is your brain simply a conglomerate 



i6 PASSION PLAYLETS 

of foolish figures? The world's greatest musician, Ferdi- 
nand Czibulka, is about to honor us with his presence here, 
and yet you would growl, if I allowed it, simply because 
this wonderful creature deprives you of your car. I don't 
understand you, Hamilton. I am afraid that I shall never 
understand you. 

HAMILTON 

I can't, for the life of me, see why your coupe de ville 
would not have suited the fellow. 

MRS. TRAINE 

The cushions in your limousine are so much deeper, so 
much more " comfy." Ferdie is a very keen observer — 
he notices all such little details, and if they are missing it 
discomforts him. 

HAMILTON 

I hope to heaven that he is not one of those " temper- 
mental " fellows! 

MRS. TRAINE 

He is a mosque of ideals — if that is what you mean. 

HAMILTON 

I don't understand the language of Bohemia. It's not 
quite the same, you know, as that spoken down in Wall 
Street. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I am not in the least interested in Bohemia, and I resent 
your thinly veiled accusation. You do not seem to appre- 
ciate the importance of Ferdinand Czibulka's visit. Per- 
haps you fail to recall the fact that one of our neigh- 
bors became the leader of her set simply because she was 



VIOLET SOULS 17 

able to import great artists over whom her women 
friends raved. Call it a game, if you choose, — it is, nev- 
ertheless, well worth playing. 



HAMILTON 

Play it as you would any other game and I shall not 
object; — but this idiotic talk about violet souls, which I've 
heard of late, is — 

He completes it with a shrug of his shoulders. He dare not 
utter the words which would quite properly express his disgust. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I do not ask you to believe in anything, Hamilton. I 
cannot reasonably expect you to have the finer instincts 
with which great artists are blessed. 

HAMILTON 

Look at this room ! Who ever heard of a violet bedroom ! 

MRS. TRAINE 

I could no longer sleep in a pink room ; and I should like 
to remind you again that this is my room — to which you are 
admitted only when I wish to talk with you privately — 
concerning my accounts. 

Hamilton 

I bless you for one thing, my dear; — you always speak 
frankly, even to your husband. 

He goes over to the window and looks out. 

Your car is waiting for me, and I shall use it to-day — 
but only to-day. 



1 8 PASSION PLAYLETS 

MRS. TRAINE 

Please close the curtains. The light hurts my eyes. 

Hamilton would reply if it were not that strange sounds^ 
coming from the hallway, suddenly command his attention. 
It might he a dog fight , hut it is not; it is Ferdinand Czihulka 
threatening to kill the hutler who has refused him admittance 
to madame's hedroom without orders. 

THE BUTLER 

You cannot see madame, she is — 

FERDINAND 

We hear him, hut do not see him — yet. He has the true 
appearance of a musician; therefore he must he kept out of 
sight as long as possihle. 

See her? Of course I shall see her! Have I not come 
all the way from Budapest just to look into her eyes! 

HAMILTON 

It is — 

MRS. TRAINE 

It's Ferdie! — my wonderful Ferdie! 

HAMILTON 

I thought I was not mistaken. 

He is a clothed statue of marhle — as they say in novels ; 
at any rate, he must have the appearance of a Daniel watching 
the gateway through which the lions make their first entrance 
into the den from the starving-pen. And indeed it is a 
starved lion that dashes in, hoping to prey upon this man of 
money. 



VIOLET SOULS 19 

FERDINAND 

Ah, you adorable little creature! At last I am with you 
again ! 

MRS. TRAINE 

Ferdie ! 

She would gladly say more; hut Hamilton is, after all, her 
husband in the eyes of the law. 

FERDINAND 

At last! 

He mistakes Hamilton for a valet and deposits his coat and 
hat in the meek man's arms. 

You are the only servant here who keeps his mouth 
shut. Take them to my rooms — and be careful not to 
muss them. 

Hamilton's arms fall limply to his sides, and of course the 
coat and hat fall with them. He waits only long enough to see 
Ferdinand drop down upon the side of the bed and kiss Mrs. 
Trainees hands feverishly, before he makes a hasty exit through 
the nearest doorway. 

Think of it! — they were not going to let me see you. 

MRS. TRAINE 

They are your servants as well as mine, Ferdie. They 
shall obey your every command. 

FERDINAND 

Perhaps they did not recognize me because I am so di- 
sheveled. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Poor little Ferdie! What has happened to you? 



20 PASSION PLAYLETS 

FERDINAND 

That awful cabman — he will not take my Hungarian 
money for the fare. What am I to do about it? 

MRS. TRAINE 

Cab? Did you not come in the car? 

FERDINAND 

There was no car — nobody to cheer — no great crowd 
— no welcome ; — nothing. I did not know where you lived . 
I have wasted hours trying to find this place. I am so 
terribly upset. 

MRS. TRAINE 

The limousine has been at the pier since daybreak. 

FERDINAND 

I tell you there was no car. It was all dark, too, when 
I landed. 

MRS. TRAINE 

You have ridden around town since early morning? 

FERDINAND 

I have been riding for hours — through parks — under 
screeching trains — through roars of awful noises. Oh, I 
am all upset, and — and — 

He might he fainting — yea, dying. 

MRS. TRAINE 

What's the matter — Ferdie? 



VIOLET SOULS 21 

FERDINAND 

Where — did — I — leave — little — Czegled? 

MRS. TRAINE 

Don't tell me that you've lost the little darling! 

FERDINAND 

Let me think. I never can think when I am excited. 
Yes, I must have left him in that awful cab. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Josephine! Josephine! 

JOSEPHINE 

What is it you wish, madame? 

MRS. TRAINE 

Run down to the street and rescue little Czegled. Run! 
Run fast; don't walk. 

Josephine goes in search of Czegled, hut not without a 
shudder, for Czegled has a had name and he may he a had 
dog. Imagine reading a sign on some gate-post, " Beware 
of our dog, Czegled.'" Would you venture into any front yard 
thus posted? You would not! 

FERDINAND 

My child will be killed — I know he will be killed. 
Of course that cah is the hest resting-place Czegled has found 
in many a day, hut it's no time for Ferdinand to admit it. 



22 PASSION PLAYLETS 

MRS. TRAINE 

I cannot allow myself to imagine it — it's so horrible. 

iVo wonder Mrs. Traine shrinks from her horrible imagin- 
ations. What is the use of importing a great musician if h^ 
hasn't either a crazy-looking dog or a baby elephant for a pet^ 
so that the newspapers can truthfully say he is "a little pe- 
culiar? " 

FERDINAND 

The dirty seat of that awful cab! Oh, this is terrible! 
Poor little Czegled ! 

MRS. TRAINE 

You must be brave, Ferdie, — and you must be calm. 

FERDINAND 

rU never be myself again. I'll never be able to play 
any more. I am all unstrung for good — all unstrung. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I am so sorry, so sorry that this has happened. 

FERDINAND 

You do not realize what I have been through — and I 
have not the words to tell you. 

MRS TRAINE 

I had planned everything so that you'd not even have 
to^think for yourself while you were here — but see what 
has happened already! 



VIOLET SOULS 23 

FERDINAND 

I have been thinking a lot — there is no doubt about 
that — and some of the things I have thought I could never 
speak out loud. 

Josephine enters — alone. 

JOSEPHINE 

The cabman will not give up the dog until the fare is 
paid. 

FERDINAND 

What is that you say? He holds my little Czegled for a 
ransom ? 

MRS. TRAINE 

It is easily arranged. Josephine, get the money from my 
purse. The fare is — 

JOSEPHINE 

Ten dollars, madame. 

FERDINAND 

Ten dollars! It sounds like millions to me. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Have you the money, Josephine? 

JOSEPHINE 

Yes, madame. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Then hurry! My guest must not be kept in such sus- 
pense. 



24 PASSION PLAYLETS 

Josephine exits, hearing the ten dollars which she expects 
to divide with the cabman — well-trained servant that she is. 



MRS. TRAINE 

You must have ridden a long way, Ferdie. 

FERDINAND 

I told you that I rode half way round the earth. But 
I cannot start my life in America by letting that fellow 
rob me. What would he demand if he had me prisoner 
in the cab instead of Czegled? 

MRS. TRAINE 

It is all settled, Ferdie. Ten dollars is a mere trifle. 
The cabman is paid. 

FERDINAND 

I think I shall like it here, after all. But I shall never 
ride alone — without you ; — they might rob me or take 
me prisoner like they have done to Czegled. You know, 
twice he stopped that awful cab and threatened to turn me 
over to the — the police — if I did not pay him. But what 
could I do? I showed him my Hungarian money — I even 
offered it to him, — but he would not take it. What could I 
do? You know, I spent half the time riding and the other 
half fighting with that fellow. He made me so mad that I 
could not speak except like — like so — 

He gesticulates wildly hut not unnaturally. 

' — and then he called me a — a Yiddisher. Now I do 
nol know what that is, but surely I am not that. 

MRS. TRAINE 

My poor little Ferdie! 



VIOLET SOULS 25 

FERDINAND 

I told him of you and your fine home — but he did not 
know of you. Then I said ' I am the great Ferdinand 
Czibuika.' But he only laughed at me and said, * What 
the devil do I care! ' 

MRS. TRAINE 

He was a brute. 

FERDINAND 

You are right; he has no soul. First I thought I should 
kill him on the spot — then I said to myself, ' He is just a 
cabman, after all, and I should not expect any one who 
travels long through such awful noises to have a violet 
soul;' — so I let him live. You know, I was thinking as I 
rode along, — why could it not be that a city was all in 
harmony with itself; that the bells on the cars, the bells 
on the trains, and the chimes in the steeples were all in 
tune? I believe it would have a great effect on the people 
— I believe it would rest them while they worked. And if 
a color scheme could be contrived, too, why there would 
be no need of an heaven — it would be right here. But 
now it is — I'll not shock you by saying it, but it was not 
heaven I was going to say. 

Josephine enters, hearing Czegled, a toy poodle, in her arms. 

My child! At last! 

MRS. TRAINE 

The dear little lamb. Give him to me, Josephine. 

FERDINAND 

See what you mean to me! I had forgotten my precious 
Czegled entirely. 



26 PASSION PLAYLETS 

MRS. TRAINE 

You are a love, Czegled. 

FERDINAND 

He will need three baths before he looks like himself at 
all. 

MRS. TRAINE 

He is such a dear ! 

Ferdinand kisses Czegled. Mrs. Traine does likewise. 

FERDINAND 

Are you upset, Czegled? Are you upset, child? Listen! 
He is trying to speak to me, to say something. What is it, 
baby? What is it you wish to say to papa? 

MRS. TRAINE 

He is wonderful! I am crazy about him. 

FERDINAND 

But it is so dark in here that he cannot see what strange 
place he is in. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Josephine, draw back the curtains. Why did you not 
think to draw them before? 

Of course you remember how sweetly she blessed Hamilton 
when he let in the dangerous daylight; but then, Hamilton is 
soulless — Czegled has a violet soul. 

FERDINAND 

Ah, that is more sensible for the time of day! Little 
Czegled is now right at home here in a minute. He is so 



VIOLET SOULS 27 

smart that he cannot be fooled on even the difference be- 
tween night and day. And you — how beautiful you look 
now that I can see you plainly. 



MRS. TRAINE 

You flatter me, Ferdie. 

FERDINAND 

You are a picture! If I could paint I'd have you near 
me always for my model. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I appreciate that — coming from such a critic. 

FERDINAND 

You are even younger than when you were in Budapest. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I am not very old. 

FERDINAND 

You know I do not mean that. I mean that you are 
such a tender flower, and sometimes tender flowers fade 
quickly. But you — you are more wonderful than ever. 

He eyes everything about him critically, as if he were about 
to buy the property — with the change which he clinks in 
his trouser-pocket. 

But I'm surprised to find that you live here in all this 
noise. I had pictured this place in my mind as having 
much ground where Czegled and I might play about. 



28 PASSION PLAYLETS 

MRS. TRAINE 

There isn't space in this big city for private grounds of 
size. 

She has always been proud of her home heretofore; hut of 
course it is nothing compared with the Czibulka estate in Hun- 
gary ^ which Ferdinand has mentioned casually — once or 
twice. Why shouldn't she offer apologies for her Fifth Avenue 
home when Ferdie's disappointment is so obvious? 

FERDINAND 

But you are rich; you can buy ground. Perhaps if 
Czegled likes it here you will make for us a nice play- 
ground where that wide street runs now — eh? 

You will please note that Ferdinand does not expect too 
much at the start. He merely urges her to buy Fifth Avenue 
itself and turn it into a playground for the dog. Pretty 
little thought, eh? 

Tell me that you have been unhappy. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I've been busy. 

FERDINAND 

Society, of course! I know! What a pity it is that you 
have not something like music or painting to amuse you. 
It would do so much to rest your soul. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Every one cannot be talented like you, Ferdie. 
Ferdinand can do one thing — he can accept a compUment 
gracefully. Witness: 



VIOLET SOULS 29 

FERDINAND 

You are quite right; few are born great. But all may be 
ambitious — all may try to copy after us, the great ones. 
Perhaps since you left Budapest, since you left me, you 
have not tried to live at all times in a world of harmony 
and beautiful things. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Ferdie dear, I have about decided to return to Buda- 
pest with you — if I can make Hamilton understand. 
You have helped me to appreciate the sublimities of life. 

FERDINAND 

How you please me when you talk so! You almost put 
my weary soul at rest. 

MRS. TRAINE 

In Budapest one can live on ideals — 

FERDINAND 

Ideals — and a little money. 
Ferdinand knows — he's tried it. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I'm simply crazy to see the Czibulka estate! 

She wonders why Ferdinand is shifting around nervously on 
the foot of the bed. She should stop and consider that he has 
come to her home to spend the rest of his days, and she is al- 
ready talking about returning with him to his home. His 
thoughts of that ancestral estate in Hungary are not quite the 
same as hers. 

You are still upset, Ferdie. 



30 PASSION PLAYLETS 

FERDINAND 

I'd like to smoke. It might quiet my nerves. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I 

Josephine, why did you not think to offer the cigarettes? 

FERDINAND 

You do not object? 

MRS. TRAINE 

I love the smell of cigarette smoke in my room. 

Ferdinand accepts a cigarette from the gold case which 
Josephine has produced from the dressing-table drawer, 

A tray, Josephine! The gentleman cannot throw his 
ashes on the floor. 

FERDINAND 

Never mind the tray, my good girl. I could not be 
bothered always thinking where it was. 

He flicks the ashes from his cigarette as he smokes. 
I think I shall be very happy here. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I hope so. 

FERDINAND 

This room is so restful — all violet, to match your soul 
and mine. 

MRS. TRAINE 

It was pink, but I had it redecorated — for you. 



VIOLET SOULS 31 



FERDINAND 



How did you sleep in a pink room? You know how I 
detest pink. There is no such color; it is nothing but a 
faded red. My suite is — 

MRS. TRAINE 

Your music-room is directly above mine, so you can 
pound on the floor when I may come to hear you play. 

FERDINAND 

That is most convenient. I shall * pound ' often. The 
room is in — 

MRS. TRAINE 

Gray, 

FERDINAND 

Gray — with a little tapestry. 

MRS. TRAINE 

I'm certain that it will please you. 

FERDINAND 

And the bedroom is in — 

The terror in Mrs, Trainees eyes is enough to make him 
understand. 

Don't say it! Please don't say it! I know already that 
the bedroom is in pink. The whole crazy house is pink! 

MRS. TRAINE 

It shall be redecorated, Ferdie, — I promise that it 
shall be done immediately. 



32 PASSION PLAYLETS 

FERDINAND 

I cannot sleep in a pink room. You should not try to 
torture me so. 

MRS. TRAINE 

If you would sleep there tonight, tomorrow — 

FERDINAND 

It is not for my own sake that I refuse; it is because a 
pink room drives my poor little Czegled almost crazy. 
Czegled has such a violet soul — and you know that pink 
and violet do not blend. But wait! Your husband shall 
exchange rooms with me. 

Mrs. Traine 

I'm afraid that Hamilton wouldn't care to move. He is 
very set in his ways. 

FERDINAND 

What an unobliging creature! I wonder that you keep 
him here. 

MRS. TRAINE 

A husband is quite necessary to a woman who runs up 
large accounts. 

FERDINAND 

Perhaps you are right! We'll let him remain here for 
a time — if he and Czegled get along well together. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Then it is decided. I shall order your trunks sent up to 
the pink room — for to-night. 



VIOLET SOULS 33 

FERDINAND 

There is but one trunk. 

MRS. TRAINE 

One? Where are your clothes for the recitals? 

FERDINAND 

I will tell you. I do not wish to tell you but you make 
me. You see, you cabled me enough money to come over 
but not enough to settle my account with the hotel — 
and they would let me have but the one trunk. 

MRS. TRAINE 

You should have cabled me again. 

FERDINAND 

There was not time to send you more word after I re- 
ceived the money — it was either leave the clothes or miss 
the steamship. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Your recitals have surely been well patronized. 

FERDINAND 

Now you make me tell you something more which I 
wish to keep secret. I have been robbed. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Robbed? 

FERDINAND 

That awful pink thing — that frightful young widow — 
that Lady Florence sued me for breach of promise. 



34 PASSION PLAYLETS 

MRS. TRAINE 

And won the suit? 

FERDINAND 

Yes, she won — and she is such an awful thing that 
she made me pay. Nothing is a question of honor with 
her — it is simply a question of money. She robbed me 
of everything I had earned. Think of it, it was she who 
told me that my playing charmed her soul! She has no 
soul — unless it is a black one. And she told me that 
her soul was violet like mine ! Do you wonder that I hate 
her? 

This is another great shock for Mrs. Trainees already shat- 
tered nerves and she falls back weakly upon the pillows. 

What is the matter? Are you ill? 



MRS. TRAINE 

I feel a little faint. 

FERDINAND 

Perhaps you need air. Open the window, Josephine — 
open it quickly. The sweet lady must not die after I have 
come all the way to America. 



MRS. TRAINE 

It's my head; it throbs. 

FERDINAND 

Your poor little head! Oh, this is terrible! Let me 
lay my hands on your forehead. 
Mrs. Traine obeys willingly. 
You shall feel the magnetism of my touch. 



VIOLET SOULS 35 

MRS. TRAINE 

It is wonderful! 

FERDINAND 

It is my soul speaking to your soul. 

MRS. TRAINE 

It's SO soothing! 

FERDINAND 

It is the blending of two violet souls — that is why you 
rest. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Do not stop. It is divine. 

FERDINAND 

Rest and think of something beautiful ; try and think of 
me. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Ferdie, you are a wonder. 

FERDINAND 

Ah ! you have discovered that which I have been trying 
to keep secret! 

He steals one hand from Mrs. Trainees forehead to pat 
Czegled affectionately. 

I think we shall be very happy here, Czegled, — yes, I 
think we shall be very happy. 

The telephone rings — rudely interrupting Ferdie' s hyp- 
notic massage. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Answer it, Josephine, — and if it is Mr. Traine calling 
tell him that I cannot talk with him now. 



36 PASSION PLAYLETS 

JOSEPHINE 

Yes, madame. 

She smiles and takes up the telephone from the dressing- 
table; hut her smile fades and her hands tremble as she receives 
the message over the wire. 

MRS. TRAINE 

It is bad news, Josephine? 

JOSEPHINE 

It is indeed bad news, madame. Oh, it's terrible! 

The telephone falls from her hands. She runs over to the 
bed. 

It was Mr. Scott, Mr. Traine's secretary. He said 
that — that the stock-market went to pieces and that — 

MRS. TRAINE 

Go on! Go on, Josephine! 

JOSEPHINE 

Mr. Traine has lost everything. 

MRS. TRAINE 

When she has grasped the full import of the message. 
Hamilton was a fool, a fool to play the market so heavily! 

JOSEPHINE 

Don't say that, madame. Please don't say that. You 
have not heard all of the message. Mr. Traine has com- 
mitted suicide. 



VIOLET SOULS 37 

MRS. TRAINE 

No, no, — you didn't understand! — you didn't hear 
correctly! Hamilton is not dead! He didn't kill himself! 

JOSEPHINE 

He is dead, madame. 

MRS. TRAINE 

Good God! 

It is little more than a groan as she falls back upon the bed 
in a faint. 

FERDINAND 

Does it mean — that they no longer have money? 

JOSEPHINE 

They have no money — now. 

Ferdie, the starved lion, is stunned — suddenly, unexpectedly 
muzzled — and, after the manner of his kind, he returns to 
Mrs. Traine with a sneer. 

FERDINAND 

So you brought me to America for this! What an idiot 
I was to think that you had a violet soul! 

He does not know that Mrs. Traine is half conscious — 
that Mrs. Traine hears him, and, for the first time, really 
understands him. Let us hope that she does not even pay for 
his transportation home and that he is forced to earn his daily 
bread by playing in some second-class cabaret. 

Perhaps Hamilton did not lose everything in the stock- 
market and commit suicide. Hamilton was wise enough to 
know that Ferdinand Czibulkas never linger long where there 
is no money forthcoming. It is just possible that Hamilton 
is listening outside the door when the curtain falls. 



THE NEST 



THE NEST 

Into the Nest we peek. It is neither a sparrow's nest nor a 
hawk's — nor a woodpecker's — nor even a squirrel's nest; it 
is a pleasingly odd little bungalow set upon a hill. Allen 
Wainwright built the small structure sometime during the 
third year of his ownership of Grey Gables, the towers of which 
rise up from the valley below The Nest. 

It was fast living which forced Allen Wainwright to choose 
between a search for health in the country or a continuation of 
his eternal round of pleasure in the city and its certain result^ 
death. He chose the former, purchased Grey Gables for a home 
and gave up the old life of debauchery. 

He lived contentedly for three years in this new home before 
he built The Nest. Was it that the view from Grey Gables did 
not satisfy him or did he long for a little private place in which 
to entertain those acquaintances of whom his wife knew 
nothing? 

Anyhow he built The Nest for some good reason, as you shall 
learn presently. 

ALLEN 

I invited you to come out here, Doctor Jameson, because 
I have always esteemed you as a worthy confident. 

He is seated in an easy chair before the stone fireplace in 
the single room of the bungalow. He might confess in very 
few words if it were not that the Doctor, whom he has known 
for all his days, stared at him so curiously. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

My dear Allen, I did not suppose that you built this 
attractive little place for the view which is to be had 



42 PASSION PLAYLETS 

of the surrounding country from its windows. You are a 
clever actor when it comes to the game of love and I hope 
that your wife is not pining down yonder in Grey Gables 
while you indulge yourself up here. 



ALLEN 

I should not be so unwise as to try to deceive a worthy 
physician — furthermore, I have no wish to deceive you. 
This is not a nest for mates; it is a nest for the unmated. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

A nest for bright-feathered birds that molt at will, that 
change their plumage to suit their latest admirers. 

ALLEN 

Their song, nevertheless, reminds me of those early 
spring mornings which go so far towards reviving one after 
the dreary winter. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

And yet you anticipate winter as a blessing when the 
heat of summer is upon you! You are trying to tell me 
that it is always winter down at Grey Gables with your 
wife. When you long for spring you send to town for 
those feathered sirens whom you entertain here, in this 
* nest.' 

ALLEN 

I wish you'd look me over. Doctor, — carefully, and then 
tell me if I am to blame. I love my wife devotedly, and I 
shall love her always. I would not hurt her for all the 
world — no, not one little bit. She is my ideal of woman- 
hood, and I am, as far as I know, her ideal of manhood, but — 



THE NEST 43 



DOCTOR JAMESON 

But the first, mad passion of mating is faded — perhaps 
dead. 

ALLEN 

I promised not to deceive you. It would be quite use- 
less to attempt such a course. That first, mad passion is 
gone — from me, at least. 



DOCTOR JAMESON 

I myself have lived what you might call a — rather free 
life — since my wife died — some ten years ago. 

ALLEN 

Ah, then you are the very one to understand me! Pas- 
sion sometimes dies tho' the wife still lives. Could you 
have lived a strictly moral life if you had not become a 
' criminal ? ' 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

The answer you wish is in direct opposition to moral 
law. 

ALLEN 

I crave the opinion of one who understands the physiology 
of man. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I have but one answer: moral law is derived from the 
Holy Scriptures, — and God made man. 



44 PASSION PLAYLETS 



ALLEN 

Must our earthly life be counted as nothing — a mere 
dream? Should it be sacrificed entirely, ended unneces- 
sarily by allowing the body to decompose for the sake of 
the all-important future? 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I am a physician, but I am only the cabinetmaker 
who repairs the treasure-chest. 

ALLEN 

Everything for the soul; nothing for the body; every- 
thing for the future instead of the present! 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I am constantly reminded of the frailty of man; there- 
fore I must consider the greater importance of our future 
life. 

ALLEN 

And yet you admit that you have lived a rather free 
life since your wife died ! 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

You emphasize my personal weakness; you do not 
weaken my argument. 

ALLEN 

I am trying to convince you that this Nest is not a haunt 
of vice. 



iJ 



THE NEST 45 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I never oppose a man's conscience. I agree with your 
conscience, whatever its dictates. 

ALLEN 

It was my half-guiity conscience which prompted me to 
seek your counsel. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

You'd like me to give you some reasonable excuse for 
overcoming this guilty feeling? 

ALLEN 

Put it that way if you like; but I'll go so far as to prom- 
ise that this place shall be put to the torch this very night 
if you tell me on your solemn oath that I have no right to 
it and what it means to me. 

The doctor, self -convicted, hesitates to judge; therefore, he 
smiles. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

Does your wife, whom you esteem, realize what this place 
means to you? 

ALLEN 

Lucille must suspect — at least, she is not such a stupid 
person that she should think I spend my nights up here 
alone. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

Does she seem as happy, as contented as she was before 
you built this * Nest? ' 



46 PASSION PLAYLETS 

ALLEN 

I have not noticed the slightest change in her. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I must say that your wife is a most unusual woman, fan 
i^ltramodern example for the others of her sex and station. 
His speech is satiric — purely. 

ALLEN 

Lucille is unusual in many ways. I value her comrade- 
ship above everything else in life. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

What if you should lose her for the sake of this other 
comradeship? 

ALLEN 

The fine-feathered sirens who come out here for a 
night or two are not comrades; they are merely toys to 
amuse a grown-up child. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

We are, as you say, grown-up children and the only par- 
ent we have to deprive us of dangerous toys is our conscience, 
that ethereal spokesman of God. 

ALLEN 

I could not live without these women; I'd be insane 
within six months. Why was I created with this mad pas- 
sion if it should not be satisfied? 



THE NEST 47 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

Why should I not steal if the money which I get by steal- 
ing will allow me to live in comfort — perhaps in luxury, 
for the remainder of my life? 

ALLEN 

When you steal you harm another; when I commit these 
so-called crimes I harm no one. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

You are driving some poor ignorant creatures toward the 
gutter. 

ALLEN 

On the contrary, my money keeps them from poverty — 
distress. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

These women are aging with each passing day. Soon 
you will tire of them and cast them off. What will become 
of them when they reach that unattractive state of old age? 
It might be, even, that when your desire for them is finished 
they will find it difficult to fascinate another. 

ALLEN 

Rubbish! They know the game too well to be beaten. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

Nobody knows the game; nobody ever will know it. 
It has never been played the same way twice, nor has it had 
the same ending. 



48 PASSION PLAYLETS 

ALLEN 

I must play it for myself; they must play it for them- 
selves. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

There's never been a bird that could defend two nests; 
you cannot defend this one and Gray Gables. 

ALLEN 

I tell you, Doctor, that my wife needs no defense — asks 
none. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

You interpret the marriage vows very strangely for a 
wise man. 

ALLEN 

I seek a practicable interpretation. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I understand. But it is not my duty to minister to the 
soul but rather to the body. 

ALLEN 

The very reason I sent for you. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I surely cannot sanction your immorality, much less 
urge you to continue with it. 

ALLEN 

Am I really immoral? 



THE NEST 49 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

Yes, I should say that you are. 

ALLEN 

Then this shall be the last visit of my birds to The Nest. 
The door-bell rings. The Doctor rises, preparatory to 
taking his leave. 

ALLEN 

It is probably the girls. They've come out from town 
on an earlier train than usual. You must not run away, 
Doctor. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I'm very human — and pretty women do fascinate me 
strangely sometimes. 

He would leave immediately were it not that he considers it 
a duty to discover what kind of creatures his friend entertains. 

ALLEN 

I call one of them The Crow, because she has black hair; 
the Titian-haired little girl I call The Wren, — and the 
yellow-headed one is The Canary. The prettiest little 
flock of high-fliers you ever saw. 

He throws wide the door and the flock flutters in, chattering 

merrily. 

Welcome to The Nest, merry song-birds! 

The young women are flashily dressed, after the fashion 
of their kind. We should never find them walking the streets 
but we might find them posed gracefully in high-backed chairs 
in the lobby of some first-class hotel almost any afternoon be- 
tween the hours of four and six. They never speak to strange 



50 PASSION PLAYLETS 

men, hut they are not offended if strange men speak to them. 
They each and every one have an aged mother, a crippled 
brother, and a young sister to support, so surely no one can 
blame them, whatever their sins. They have occupations — 
indeed yes — for their parents, as a rule, know not what their 
lovely daughters do. There is many a one of them who could 
rightfully claim a lineage which would put some of our gilded 
debutantes to shame. Most of them know a little French — a 
very little — which they serve piecemeal to those victims who 
cannot reply in the same language. They only betray their 
coarseness, their real selves, when they have looked upon the 
wine when it is red or sparkling gold. 

The Crow wears a gown which might ill become any modest 
stenographer, otherwise clothed in keeping with the limitations 
of a ten dollar per week salary; but her entire outfit is proper, 
for she purchased it complete at a quite smart shop where her 
credit is vouched for by a foolish old stock-broker in his dotage. 

The Wren, a telephone operator, is not so well dressed 
simply because she is not so fortunate. If she had the gold 
she'd surely spend it on clothes; but, so far, she has ''listened 
in'' on only three conversations between married men and 
their affinities, upon which she has succeeded in collecting 
hush-money. 

The Canary, blessed — or cursed, as you choose to consider 
it — with a head of bright yellow hair, is dressed entirely in 
black. Her husband, if such a human being ever existed, is 
supposed to have gone to his rest eternal ten years ago. We 
have, of course, some proof that she was married at one time, 
for she still wears a wide, showy wedding-ring which she dis- 
plays for the benefit of those cruel enough to doubt her. Ten 
years is not such a long time to mourn for husband when 
mourning is so very becoming to a super-blonde! 



THE NEST 51 



THE WREN 

Imitating a circus-announcer. 

We have with us to-night a stranger bird. 

ALLEN 

After motioning The Wren to be silent. 

Doctor Jameson, — The Wren, The Crow and The 
Canary. 

The Doctor bows stiffly. The Canary is somewhat em- 
barrassed. The Crow mimics the Doctor's bow. The Wren 
chuckles. 

THE CROW 

The Doctor is not from the country? 

ALLEN 

Indeed no! and you'll find him a jolly good fellow. 
Off with your hats and wraps, girls! — and then you, little 
Wren, give us some ragtime on the piano. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I must go shortly, Allen; I have some serious cases 
which require my attention. 

ALLEN 

ril not let you go. You'll work yourself to death, Doc- 
tor. A night out will do you good. 



52 PASSION PLAYLETS 



THE WREN 

Strumming on the piano. 

Vm crazy about this one-step! Isn't it a wonder? 
Dance it with the Doctor, Canary. He looks sad. 

THE CANARY 

Hush, Wren! He and the king bird are talking. 

THE WREN 

I'll plug in a busy wire on their line so they'll ring off. 
She pounds the piano keys roughly. 

ALLEN 

Noticing the displeasure which the good Doctor makes no 
effort to conceal. 

The Wren isn't really bad. She is a telephone operator 
by profession. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

Is it her occupation, I wonder, or merely a pretense. 

ALLEN 

I feel justified in making certain allowances for these 
poor creatures. Their lives are not all sunshine and roses. 
Operating a telephone switchboard must be monotonous 
work for such a bundle of nerves as the little Wren. See how 
tired she looks! 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

She doesn't hammer on that piano as if she were weary. 



THE NEST 53 



ALLEN 

Poor things, they hide well the true condition of their 
aching souls. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

Have they souls — really? 

He might he more lenient if the young women showed him 
due consideration. 

ALLEN 

You don't think, deep down in your heart, that God 
would disown them? 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

God will deny no one — but something, somebody has 
robbed them of innate decency, that quality which makes 
ladies of female human beings. 



ALLEN 

Perhaps they find their life's greatest pleasure in merely 
masquerading as devils. Take The Canary, for example; 
she's the best-hearted little bird that ever flew into this 
nest. 

The Doctor's eyes have been focused upon The Canary ever 
since she entered the room. 

Why do you stare at her. Doctor? Have you met 
before? 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

She is a rather interesting specimen of the species, but, 
nevertheless, not an unusual one. I dare say she smokes 
a couple of packages of cigarettes per day and imbibes 
good liquor freely at night. 



54 PASSION PLAYLETS 

ALLEN 

In which she is no different from our average society 
woman. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I have never held that our society women were angelic. 
My practice, as you know, is mostly confined to the wealthy 
class. 

ALLEN 

Then you certainly do not feel ill at ease here — in 
Bohemia. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

Bohemia and the Devil seem to share honors; either one 
is always blamed for anything Heaven won't sanction. 



THE CANARY 

Who has been eavesdropping. 

I , for one, did not come out here to be discussed ! Where's 
the food and drink — anything different from what we get 
at home? 

THE CROW 

I'm dying to sing, but my throat is too dry. 

THE WREN 

To think that I turned down an engagement for the 
theatre and supper to come out here! 

She pounds on the piano again for revenge^ while The Crow 
and The Canary dance round the room, purposely humping 
against the Doctor as they pass him. 



THE NEST 55 

ALLEN 

You shall have wine and food, dear ladies. Do what you 
please to amuse yourself, Doctor. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

It seems quite warm, quite stuffy in here to me. I 
think I'll smoke on the veranda, if you don't object. 

ALLEN 

This is Liberty Hall and every one does as he likes here. 
Doctor Jameson lights a cigar and exits. 

THE CANARY 

Is that old man trying to bore holes in me with his icy 
stare? What did he say about me, anyway? 

ALLEN 

Don't get excited, Canary. We'll give him some wine 
and the old fellow's spirits will warm up to yours. 

THE CANARY 

Give him a pint — all for himself. 

THE WREN 

Give him a whole quarts I say. 

ALLEN 

You birds would surely die if you couldn't chirp. 
He goes up stage and raising a small trap-door in the floor ^ 
brings forth several bottles of wine. 



56 PASSION PLAYLETS 

THE CROW 

That's a great ice-chest, King-Bird! 

ALLEN 

It's my own invention. 
He tosses a bottle of wine to The Crow. 
Take that out to the Doctor — and don't forget the 
glasses. You will find them over there on the sideboard. 

THE WREN 

You should have a dinning-room — and a kitchen, too. 

ALLEN 

I can watch you when you are all in one room. 

THE CANARY 

I, for one, don't like to be watched. 

THE WREN 

Nor I. Give me the glasses. Crow, and we'll see if we 
can get the Doctor in a good humor between the two of us. 

The Wren and The Crow exit. 

The Canary lolling in an armchair, looks dejected. 

ALLEN 

Cheer up, little song-bird ! We'll all be merry when the 
wine is drunk. 

THE CANARY 

I don't like your friend, the Doctor. He stares at me 
as though I were a witch. 



ii 



THE NEST 57 



ALLEN 

You are a witch; a witch who drives me mad. 

THE CANARY 

The Doctor should mind his own business and leave me 
alone. 

ALLEN 

It is his business to study human character. He can't 
get away from it — ever. 

He fills The Canary's glass with wine and pats her shoulder 
lightly — his ready sympathy to show. 

ALLEN 

A toast to you, my Canary! To the best little sport in 
the world, my golden-crested song bird. 

THE CANARY 

You like me anyway, don't you — no matter what the 
Doctor said? 

ALLEN 

Like you? You're the most fascinating creature that 
ever lived. 

THE CANARY 

Perhaps I'm wasting my time on you, after all — per- 
haps I'm the type to catch some young chap with a few 
millions he's anxious to squander. 

She snatches Allen's cigarette and inhales deep breaths of 
smoke from it. 

Picture me moving in society ! Picture me if you can ! 



58 PASSION PLAYLETS 

He laughs with her, and, just to fall in with her merry 
mood, steals hack his cigarette when she looks away. 

Fill my glass again — quickly. There seems nothing to 
this place unless one has plenty of wine. 

She grasps his hand and pulls him down playfully onto the 
arm of her chair. 

ALLEN 

I know that you like to be here, despite your com- 
plaining. 

THE CANARY 

I like the place — but most of all I like you. 

ALLEN 

You're the daintiest little charmer in the land. 

THE CANARY 

I'm not very pretty. 

ALLEN 

You are not only pretty — you're captivating. 

THE CANARY 

No wonder your wife loves you ! — you have the cute 
little Romeo tricks all right! 

ALLEN 

I am honest — in all my dealings with you. 

THE CANARY 

With a theatrical sigh. 

Perhaps! Anyhow that is the way to get honesty in 
return. 



THE NEST 59 

She snatches his cigarette again and, holding it at arm's 
length, eyes it critically. 

Monogram on every one! Very, very classy! 

ALLEN 

A friend of mine in the business makes them for me. 
I'll send you some if you'll promise to smoke them. 

THE CANARY 

I'd love to have them. Your monogram on them, too, 
eh? 

ALLEN 

Yes. Why not? 

He has drunk two glasses of wine; he is very agreeable, 

THE CANARY 

Send me a thousand cigarettes. 

ALLEN 

I'll send two thousand — perhaps five thousand. 

THE CANARY 

More wine, King-Bird! We'll seal that promise with a 
drink. I shall expect those cigarettes — 

ALLEN 

Sometime this week. 

THE CANARY 

I've always wanted a friend in the cigarette business. 



6o PASSION PLAYLETS 

ALLEN 

Am I merely a friend, little Canary? 

THE CANARY 

I'll answer that question after we've drunk this bottle. 
Allen pours the wine. The Canary watches him with 
dreamy, half -closed eyes. 

ALLEN 

The night is still young and so are you — and so am I. 

THE CANARY 

Gazing soulfully into his eyes — a sensuous appeal. 

I wish that we might run away from them — go away — 
off somewhere together, just you and I. I'd make you 
forget life, its cares and everything. 

ALLEN 

You're far too serious to-night, little bird. I've another 
nest, as you know, and I can't desert it. 

THE CANARY 

The other nest is not pleasing or you would not be here. 

ALLEN 

Whispering, as he bends down above her. 
I believe that you could make me forget everything else 
in the world. 

THE CANARY 

Perhaps you've planned to run off with The Crow or The 

Wren? 



THE NEST 6i 

ALLEN 

I'd not exchange you for both of them. 

THE CANARY 

Then we'll go away together? 

ALLEN 

I can't promise — yet. It depends entirely upon what 
my friend, the Doctor, says. 



THE CANARY 

Springing to her feet — a tigress at bay. 
What has the Doctor to do with it? What has he told 
you about me? 

ALLEN 

Which way are the bubbles going in my glass — up or 
down? 

THE CANARY 

Let the bubbles go any way! I don't care what hap- 
pens, if only the silly old Doctor doesn't bother us. 



ALLEN 

I'll bet that The Crow has stolen the old fellow's heart 
by this time. 

THE CANARY 

Fill the glasses again and forget the other birds for a 
while. You are not afraid of the wine — and you're not 
afraid of me, so drink up — drink up and laugh. 



62 PASSION PLAYLETS 

ALLEN 

I wouldn't care if the whole world stopped! 
He cannot stand erect; he staggers. 
But it's still turning around all right. 

THE CANARY 

A toast to you! 

ALLEN 

Say whatever you like, only say that you love me. 

THE CANARY 

With a mocking laugh. 

Here's to the husband who lives his own life, 

Who is still a good sport in spite of his wife. 

ALLEN 

Leave my wife out of it! If you can't talk about me 
don't talk about any one. 

THE CANARY 

I'll say what I please. I'm mistress here, even if she is 
mistress down there. 

ALLEN 

I repeat; you leave my wife out of it. She has nothing 
to do with you or this place, and you have nothing to do 
with her. 

THE CANARY 

Why don't you stay with her if she is so much better than 
the rest of us? 

ALLEN 

That's something which doesn't concern you. 



THE NEST 63 

THE CANARY 

It does concern me. And I can fight for you just as hard 
as she can. 

ALLEN 

If you try to cause trouble between us I'll — 
He moves toward her threateningly hut must return to the 
chair-hack for support. The wine has mastered him. 

THE CANARY 

I'll tell her how you live, the poor blind fool. I'll tell 
her of the risks you take without ever a thought of her. I'll 
open her eyes so wide that she'll leave you — and then I'll 
come back and ask you which one of us is best suited to be 
the good sport's nest-mate. 

ALLEN 

I'll burn this place tonight. I'd burn it with you in it if 
I could. You common thing of the gutter! You — 

He staggers towards her — stumbles — falls. 

The Canary laughs. Another victim is sprawled uncon- 
scious at her feet. But her laugh ends as abruptly as it began 
when she turns to find the Doctor standing in the doorway. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

You are the young woman who came to me penniless, 
begging me upon your knees to use my God-given knowl- 
edge of medicine to make you fit to live among your fellow- 
creatures again. Have I been serving God by helping 
you, or have I been serving Satan? 

To lose the Doctor's friendship would he tantamount to 
losing life, and The Canary, winged, helpless, hysterical, 
falls down sobbing at the good man's feet. 



64 PASSION PLAYLETS 

THE CANARY 

I'm not really bad at heart, Doctor. Don't forsake 
me — for Heaven's sake don't! I'll not harm him — I'll 
go away, — out of his life, and never see him again. Tell 
me that I can come and see you at the office tomorrow. 
Say that you are still my friend. 

The aged Doctor is looking over the head of the woman kneel- 
ing before him.; he is looking out of the window at Grey Gables, 
the other nest down in the valley. 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

I am not considering you nor him ; I am considering his 
wife. A bird with two nests cannot keep either of them 
clean if one of them — 

THE CANARY 

Oh no! Don't say that! 

DOCTOR JAMESON 

God pity them! 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 

Lilian Fletchwood is seated at the grand piano in the music- 
room of Fletchwood Court. She is, perhaps, twenty-five years 
of age — surely no less — but if we were to find a clever actress 
of thirty-five years who could play the part, we should by all 
means engage her for it, for — Lilian is betrothed to Aynes- 
worth Martin, whom she does not love with her whole heart 
but whom she dare not jilt to risk an old maid's existence. 
She is a charming creature who would doubtless have been 
blessed with any number of admirers, had not her parents, but 
recently deceased, kept her too much in the seclusion of the 
home. Lilian must be playing the opening chords of the 
Rachmaninof Prelude, which seem to best express the cry of 
her soul for real passion. She plays these chords with great 
force, sending them out into endless space like a wireless-oper- 
ator signaling "distress.'' She is a woman of flesh and blood, 
and the thought of loneliness in her old age, the thought of never 
becoming a wife and mother, is even more terrifying than 
death to her. If she were given a choice she'd certainly choose 
the latter. 

It is evening — the time of day when the mad passions of 
men and women rise to master them. The carefully shaded 
electric lamps flood the room with a rose light which warms 
the dull gray panelled walls and pleasingly plain ceiling. 

The chords of music, the cries of this woman's soul, are not 
wafted off into empty space; they reach the ears of Clifford 
Willoughby, who comes into the doorway presently. 

Lilian does not see him — she is facing us — but she knows 
instantly that — 



68 PASSION PLAYLETS 

LILIAN 

It is Mr. Willoughby. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I begged your man not to announce me, not to interrupt 
those wonderful chords. 

His dark eyes sparkle. He hastens to grasp her extended 
hand eagerly. 

LILIAN 

What was it, I wonder? I knew that you were there. 
Their eyes meet, and they find pleasure in the meeting. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I knew that you wished me to call — and yet I hesi- 
tated. 

LILIAN 

You are overbold to think that I was playing the 
prelude for you. 

She is never coquettish — she is a very sincere woman at 
heart — but nevertheless she says this to assure him that he is 
the person for whom she played the prelude; to assure him 
that he is the one man in the world whom she wished the 
mighty chords of music to reach. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Perhaps it was a prelude to destiny. I just now de- 
serted Aynesworth at the club. 

LILIAN 

I understand. You need not explain further. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 69 

WILLOUGHBY 

He's been drinking again. He talks of you madly — 
openly- I felt my fingers moving towards his throat several 
times. 

LILIAN 

Aynesworth is a little boorish for a man of his good 
breeding. 

She says this thoughtlessly. Her cheeks hum a little 
when she remembers that Aynesworth will shortly become her 
husband. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I'm free to admit that I feel quite guilty coming directly 
from him to you. 

Lilian laughs harmlessly, musically — simply to put him 
at this ease; not to deny his guilt. 

I lay claim to Aynesworth's friendship, but I am desper- 
ate to talk with you — here — alone. When I met you the 
other evening something in your eyes offered — 

LILIAN 

Friendship? 

She cannot meet his fiery eyes, thus admitting the guilt of her 
offer. 

WILLOUGHBY 

You gave me preference over Aynesworth — you know 
you did. It might have been but a sudden fancy — never- 
theless it was enough to set me thinking. 

LILIAN 

And you, silly boy, thought — 

She knows, in her heart, that it is too late to deny it — and 
in truth, she does not wish to deny it. 



70 PASSION PLAYLETS 



WILLOUGHBY 

I am convinced that there is some serious disagreement 
between you and Aynesworth. 

LILIAN 

Mr. Willoughby, you are mistaken. Aynesworth and I 
are engaged to marry. I do not always speak of him seri- 
ously, but that does not alter the case. 

This with such finality that Willoughby, quite taken aback ^ 
stares at her wide-eyed for a moment. 

WILLOUGHBY 

You allowed me to come here; in fact, you asked me to 
come. 

LILIAN 

You must have misunderstood me, Mr. Willoughby. 

Willoughby did not misunderstand the look in her eyes. 
He has misjudged her. Lilian considers herself blameless be- 
cause her soul cried out to his soul, but if she yielded to this 
mad passion she'd feel guilty of an unspeakable crime. 

WILLOUGHBY 

He is a good man, but even good men yield to their passions 
more readily than women. He must insist that it is her priv- 
ilege to jilt Aynesworth. 

What did your eyes say to me? 

LILIAN 

A thoughtless impression — nothing more. 

// is a lie, smoothly spoken, but he forgives her for it because 
she lies in defense of an agreement to which she is a party in 
honor bound. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 71 

WILLOUGHBY 

Could I have imagined that you were offering me en- 
couragement? 

LILIAN 

I shall be very careful of my eyes in future — ^when there 
are impressionable young gentlemen around. 

WILLOUGHBY 

You insist that our meeting meant nothing to you, and 
yet the wonderful prelude died just now, as if my coming 
made it of no further use to you. 

LILIAN 

I was strangely aware of a presence — but it might have 
been any one — the butler or — 

WILLOUGHBY 

You called me by name without seeing me. My foot- 
steps are not familiar to you. How, may I ask, did you 
know that it was Mr. Willoughby? 

LILIAN 

Are you trying to convince me that I should not have al- 
lowed you to come? 

WILLOUGHBY 

Ah, then you did wish me to come! 

LILIAN 

You are a strange man ; a man very different from all the 
others I have known, and you did impress me — 

Encouraged, he takes a step toward her. 
— a little. Call me inquisitive, if you choose, but it was 
not that which prompted me to act so boldly. 



72 PASSION PLAYLETS 



WILLOUGHBY 

I knew that it was something more — something very' 
sudden and very strong. 

LILIAN 

You will not drive me to any foolish admissions. I am 
sure that you will not. You seemed to enjoy my playing 
and — well, let us say that I was somewhat flattered. 
One always is pleased when one is appreciated. There is 
a certain movement of the sonata I played which appeals to 
me greatly, and I felt, somehow, that it appealed to you, 
too. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I remember it quite clearly. I shall always remember it. 

LILIAN 

How absurd we are! Souls are not tuned to harmonize. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I wonder! The man meets the woman for the first time. 
The woman smiles. There is something in the woman's 
smile, something new and fascinating which fires the 
man's very soul instantly. They talk and find that they 
have certain tastes in common. They find pleasure in their 
companionship. Their tastes, their ideas of life are so 
nearly identical that they soon become friends. Their 
friendship reveals many other things which they share, 
and before they realize it they have become lovers. Why? 
Because their souls are in tune with one another. It is 
the only way a man can choose his mate. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 73 

LILIAN 

I should like to agree with you, but I am afraid that you 
are mistaken. 

Secretly she agrees with him; for they share the same ideas 
in regard to choosing a mate. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Your soul and mine met — 

LILIAN 

We met only the night before last. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I insist that it was more than an ordinary meeting of two 
human beings. 

LILIAN 

I'm afraid that you are trying to convert a very worldly 
mortal. 

WILLOUGHBY 

My eyes met yours and I found, in that single glance, a 
matchless prize that I never knew existed. 

LILIAN 

A prize that is promised to — 

WILLOUGHBY 

You are cruel. I should never have acted so boldly if 
you were not so bewitching. 



74 PASSION PLAYLETS 



LILIAN 

Life is indeed a gamble, Mr. Willoughby, and it has been 
said that courage is man's crowning attribute; but you can 
not expect a serious woman's heart to be swayed by 
every little fancy. Think what a scandal there would 
be if I were to jilt poor Aynesworth for some one I had 
known but forty-eight hours! Surely the laws of society 
are not so fiimsily constructed that one can misconstrue 
them at one's pleasure — without qualms. I admit that 
Aynesworth is an idler, a spendthrift, a clubman who talks 
lightly of women over the card-table, but I cannot gamble 
away my life with each turn my fancy takes. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Why call it mere fancy? It is something which you 
surely never felt for Aynesworth. 

LILIAN 

Aynesworth is the sort of rich idler that enjoys solitude 
more than companionship. He will wish to be alone and 
so shall I. Who could say that such lovers of solitude 
should not mate and live in harmony? We should never 
disturb one another seriously, at any rate. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Perhaps you are right! Aynesworth has money, too, 
while I am but a struggling young solicitor. I have been 
overbold — presumptuous. 

He turns away with a gesture of despair. 

Her eyes follow him always as he paces the room. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 75 



LILIAN 



Aynesworth, of course, has no soul — at least, none that 
is worthy of the name. 

She is daring; but she could not say less, for Willoughhy 
is not merely disappointed — he is suffering. 



WILLOUGHBY 

I should not have come. I am impulsive and — 
He is standing in the doorway. A step or two and he might 
disappear out of her world forever. She found it easy to re- 
pulse him when he was insistent, hut now there's a strange little 
strain at her heartstrings when she thinks of his going. 

LILIAN 

Who can say that Aynesworth and I will not quarrel 
and separate for all time? He has a fiery temper and so 
have I. I have often thought that perhaps — 

Willoughhy offers his hand. He would rather she did not 
continue. He accepts her kind words as charity and he can- 
not bring himself to he but a hopeless beggar. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Aynesworth asked me to be groomsman, but that is 
quite impossible since I have betrayed him. 

LILIAN 

Quite impossible, I should say. 

WILLOUGHBY 

You need not, however, be afraid of me. I shall not 
cause you any further annoyance. 



76 PASSION PLAYLETS 



LILIAN 



You need not stay away, my friend. I am sure that 
you are not in the least dangerous. 
He clings to her hand and she can no longer face him. 



WILLOUGHBY 



I might return in — say, a year. I should like to drop 
in again, if you don't mind. 



LILIAN 

You'll be anxious to know whether the laws of society have 
been proved inconsistent with the natural laws? 

WILLOUGHBY 

Yes. 

LILIAN 

And if you find me playing the prelude, I may, perhaps, 
mistake you for the butler. 

He is looking straight into her eyes and she must escape him. 
She appears to he startled by a thought which flashes across her 
mind. 

Aynesworth might suspect yOu ! He might — 

Willoughby wraps her swiftly in his arms. Her words are 
smothered by his kiss. 

You must go — quickly. 

WILLOUGHBY 

A madman, clinging to her desperately. 
No, no, don't send me away like this! — for God's sake 
don't! 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 77 

LILIAN 

You may return in one year, but until then — 
Willoughby releases her, and, drawing himself bravely 
erect, passes through the doorway without turning. 

Lilian's hands go swiftly to her burning cheeks. She sinks 
down upon the piano-bench. She hears footsteps. Perhaps 
he is coming back! She tries to play the opening chords of 
the prelude but her hands tremble so violently that her fingers 
refuse to strike the proper keys. She makes a mighty effort 
and wins. Aynesworth appears in the doorway, but Lilian 
is unaware of his presence. 

AYNESWORTH 

You did not expect me this evening, dear? 
Lilian cannot reply. Perhaps he met Willoughby! 
I gave up a good game at the club, too. Thought I 
should since we are to be married within the week. 
Lilian merely nods. 
That's not such a bad little melody. What is it? 

LILIAN 

A Prelude to Destiny, some one called it. 

AYNESWORTH 

It's very pleasing — . Strange that I never heard of it 
before ! 

Lilian falls sobbing across the keyboard of the piano. 
Aynesworth, astonished, stares at her. 

The curtain is lowered here for a moment only, to indi- 
cate the passing of a year. When it is raised we see the 
same room with only minor changes in detail; other flowers 



78 PASSION PLAYLETS 

upon the grand piano, etc.; changes which the passing of time 
necessitates. 

Lilian is discovered , seated at the piano. Aynesworth hap- 
pens to be lying back lazily in the same chair in which we last 
saw him. His manners are the same, but there are deep lines 
in his face which make him appear much older. He was al- 
ways gruff, but a year of unhappy married life — to forget 
which he has imbibed a goodly quantity of rare old Scotch — 
has made him so irritable that he does not, even for a single 
minute, gain our sympathy. 

AYNESWORTH 

The piano is rather uninteresting, isn't it? 
Lilian tries to avoid him. 

You have played some of those things for a year — and 
more. 

LILIAN 

They are masterpieces. They will live forever. 

AYNESWORTH 

Masterpieces? I dare say death saved 'the fellows who 
wrote them the violence of the mob! 

LILIAN 

Have you clever conversation to offer — 
She completes it with a shrug of her shoulders. Aynes- 
worth' s retort is a grunt. 

You should not expect a woman to enjoy your growling, 

AYNESWORTH 

I take it that a wife is meant to amuse. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 79 

LILIAN 

I am not a marionette, Aynesworth; I am a woman of 
flesh and blood. 

AYNESWORTH 

You are a devilish cold one to say such a thing. 

LILIAN 

I have endured enough to make me cold towards you. 

AYNESWORTH 

You are always the injured little party, aren't you? You 
never stop and think that I've spent a fortune in the last 
year — all for our good times. 

LILIAN 

Our good times! I do not recall a single evening 
which you spent at home with me — while your money 
lasted. 

AYNESWORTH 

Little of your money have you spent. 

LILLA.N 

What good sense I've displayed! We now have my 
father's home in which to live — at least in comfort, if not 
in luxury. 

AYNESWORTH 

A home with doors so heavy that you cannot hear the 
knocks of my pesky creditors, trying to attract your 
attention. 



8o PASSION PLAYLETS 

LILIAN 

Would you have me pay — for you? 

AYNESWORTH 

Why not? The trouble is that you've never offered to 
pay. 

LILIAN 

You have been drinking heavily again. 

AYNESWORTH 

Why shouldn't I drink when it's the only pleasure I have 
left? It makes me forget that I'm still alive. 

LILIAN 

It is rather difficult for a wife to be counted as nothing. 

AYNESWORTH 

A woman is just what she chooses to make herself — she 
can be either a good sport or — 

LILIAN 

She has no club to love more dearly than her home. 

AYNESWORTH 

Rubbish! What is home to a mismated couple like 
ourselves? What is life at all when you bore me and I bore 
you? 

Upon this point they do agree. 

You used to like me because I was a good fellow ; now you 
hate me because I c^n't afford to give you up. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 8i 

LILIAN 

It does not elevate you in my opinion to know that you 
cling to me only as a necessity. 

AYNESWORTH 

Drunk enough to resort to beastly sarcasm. 
Perhaps I continue as your loving husband because 
marriages are made in Heaven. 

LILIAN 

Your mockery drives me mad! I'll not be insulted 
further by you. I'll not! I'll not! 

AYNESWORTH 

I cannot be dumb, even to oblige my wife. 

LILIAN 

There must be some way. 

Aynesworth laughs softly, confidently. 

What is public scandal, after all, compared with such a 
life! Why should we fear our friends, and what they'll 
think? Why should I debase myself further by remaining 
here by your side when I am not a wife at all — but nothing 
more than plaything — mistress, if you'll have it so? The 
vile creatures, the women with whom you associate, are 
no less than I who deceive by posing as a mate. It can't 
be! Do you hear? It can't be! We can't go on like this! 

AYNESWORTH 

Now, Lilian, I — 



82 PASSION PLAYLETS 

LILIAN 

I hate you ! I hate your kisses and your very touch ! I 
buried my soul, my finer instincts, when I married you. I 
am young, palpitating with the blood of youth that cries 
aloud for real love. And I shall find it ! I shall find the 
love that I'm entitled to and make it mine. You are right 
— we are mismated. We are wasting our lives, both of 
us, and it's the end of our vile hypocrisy. 

A frail thing, nerve-shaken, she sinks down upon the divan. 

AYNESWORTH 

Smiling at her sarcastically. 

I might even offer consolation if my lot were not quite 
on a par with your own — and if that beastly Scotch hadn't 
robbed me of my usual keen sense of humor. 

He goes very close to her, and, when she shrinks from him^ 
chuckles after the fashion of a stupid, intoxicated man. 

You are serious, after all. 

LILIAN 

Meeting him with a look even more threatening than his 
own. 

I am desperately — dangerously serious. 

AYNESWORTH 

You're acting this way because I'm bankrupt. 

His words bring Lilian to her feet in a flash. 

It's not lack of love that's ruling you — it's selfishness. 

LILIAN 

Would you have me pay the costs of your dissipation? 
Could you ask such a thing? Could you stoop so very low? 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 83 

AYNESWORTH 

What beautiful thoughts you used to express about our 
being partners! 

LILIAN 

I have paid my share — perhaps not in money but in 
other ways. I shall not give you one penny. 

AYNESWORTH 

It means bankruptcy for me — disgrace. 

LILIAN 

You shall not have a single penny from me. 

AYNESWORTH 

You are a fraud, a sham who plays at being wife. Why 
shouldn't I seek companionship elsewhere? Why shouldn't 
I look fbr fire when there's only a bloodless creature in my 
home? What right have you to judge me when you alone 
are to blame? Where's your defense? Let's have it! 

LILIAN 

At least you realize the common crime we two commit 
by living as one. 

AYNESWORTH 

When there's no partnership. But why not play it fair 
and make me love you in spite of myself? 

LILIAN 

My money again! You offer me very little at a very 
great price. 



84 PASSION PLAYLETS 

AYNESWORTH 

I offer you quite as much as I bought with mine. 

LILIAN 

What did you buy? Women — women who laughed 
at me, joined with you in ridiculing and deceiving the one 
who should have been most precious to you. One doesn't 
pay for one's own shaming, Aynesworth. It's cruel of you 
to ask it. 

AYNESWORTH 

A lot of words! A pretty way to put me off! 

LILIAN 

You have my decision. 

AYNESWORTH 

Then it is the end? 

LILIAN 

It is the end of torture. 

AYNESWORTH 

No! 

He glares at her like some savage creature ready to pounce 
upon its prey. He is a drunken fool, devoid of reason. 
I need ten thousand pounds and I'm going to have it. 

LILIAN 

You do not frighten me in the least, even drunk as you 
are. 

AYNESWORTH 

I'm not trying to frighten you. It's business now — and 
it's your turn to pay. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 85 

LILIAN 

I repeat — you shall not have one penny. 

AYNESWORTH 

I tell you I need ten thousand pounds to keep me from 
ruin. 

LILIAN 

It's my turn to laugh, Aynesworth. It's my turn to rule. 

AYNESWORTH 

I'll have that money if I have to kill you. 

His hands reach her bare white throat. He forces her back 
upon the piano. 

The butler appears in the doorway. He stops — amazed. 
But he has come at an opportune moment; he must speak. 

THE BUTLER 

I beg pardon, madam. Mr. Willoughby is calling. 

Aynesworth releases Lilian and stares blankly at the servant. 

Lilian does not move. 

The curtain is again lowered, and raised immediately on the 
same room some months later. The butler shows in Willoughby. 
We have not seen Willoughby for more than a year, and al- 
though he has aged a little, his face bears no marks of dissipa- 
tion. He has aged more in manner than in appearance. He 
is a very sober man now, still bearing bravely that great disap- 
pointment which has deepened with time into sorrow. 

THE BUTLER 

I'll announce you, sir, immediately Mrs. Aynesworth 
Martin returns. 



86 PASSION PLAYLETS 



WILLOUGHBY 

I shall wait. 

He smiles sadly — wearily. He has waited a very long 
time to see her again. 

THE BUTLER 

Very good, sir! 

His curiosity halts him at the doorway. 
You will pardon me, sir, but you were formerly Mrs. 
Martin's solicitor — if she asks? 

WILLOUGHBY 

I was Miss Fletchwood's friend; I am Mrs. Martin's 
friend. 

THE BUTLER 

Yes, — of course, sir! I understand, sir. 

Willoughby is looking at the piano as if it only, of all things 
present, shared with him a treasured secret. He does not see 
the gray-haired butler shake his head. The old servant is a 
'very keen observer; he knows life's tragedies quite as well as 
its comedies. 

Some music, which has fallen from the piano, attracts 
Willoughby' s attention. The butler hastens to pick it up. 



THE BUTLER 

It is a prelude, sir, — something Mrs. Martin has played 
and loved for a long, long time. I have come to know it 
well, sir, — if you will pardon me. Perhaps you, too, — 

Willoughby accepts the music and holds it with trembling 
hands. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 87 

THE BUTLER 

Mrs. Martin played it only this morning, sir. 
Noticing Willoughby's surprise he adds: 
The very first music we have heard in the house since 
Mr. Martin's death. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Mr. Martin died just two months ago. 

The Butler 
Exactly so, sir; two months to the day. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I have been away — travelling. 

the butler 
I understand, sir. 

He would retire; but Willoughby, drifting, seems to refuse 
him the necessary permission. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Two months! Yes, yes! — and a year added to that. 

The butler exits quietly. 

The last time I called Mrs. Martin was ill — if you re- 
member — and I could not see her. 

His head comes up with a jerk and his eyes widen. He knows 
that when he turns he will see Lilian, who has come into the 
doorway. He is so certain of this that he speaks without 
turning. 

Mrs. Martin, I asked your man's permission to wait in 
here. 

Lilian comes down to him. She does not offer her hand, 
but instead lays it lightly upon his arm. 



38 PASSION PLAYLETS 

LILIAN 

You have been away? 

He nods. 

Your return is a happy event — for all your friends. 

Their eyes meet and again they find pleasure in the meeting. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I have come to offer my sympathy. Aynesworth was a 
good fellow, and good fellows are rare creatures in this life. 
He misinterprets Lilian's feeble smile. 
My sympathy, you must understand, is quite sincere. 

LILIAN 

I'm afraid that you have aged, Mr. Willoughby. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I hope not! — that is, I hope I've not changed enough to 
make me seem different. This room — the atmosphere — 
He lays the music upon the piano. 
It's enough to confuse me. 

LILIAN 

It has been a long time since — 

WILLOUGHBY 

It's a sacred part of my life's history — the most sacred 
part. 

His eyes fall to her exquisite gown. It is the first time he 
has noticed that she is not in mourning. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 89 

LILIAN 

I have learned that conventionalities must be discarded 
for truths. If I shock the world by robing myself in keep- 
ing with my state of mind then the world must be shocked. 

WILLOUGHBY 

I'm sure that you are just a little curious to know what 
brings me. I am a solicitor and I know my kind too well 
to see you, a friend, thrown mercilessly adrift. I should 
like to be of some service to you in settling Aynesworth's 
estate. 

LILIAN 

He left no estate to settle. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Nothing? Aynesworth was worth a goodly sum when 
I knew him. 

LILIAN 

He squandered every penny of it. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Oh! Then that accounts for your coming here to live! I 
am beginning to understand the situation. I must admit 
that I was somewhat shocked to find you wearing colors. 

LILIAN 

I have established a little house of truth ; I am true to 
my inner self in everything, regardless of what the out- 
side world may say or think. 



90 PASSION PLAYLETS 

WILLOUGHBY 

At last! 

LILIAN 

Yes — at last. 

WILLOUGHBY 

How I marveled at your courage — and ended by think- 
ing myself a conceited ass. 

LILIAN 

I 've never understood it — exactly. 

WILLOUGHBY 

It's all very simple. You allowed yourself to be gov- 
erned by conventionalities rather than by guiding passion; 
you tried to think the unreal real — the real unreal. 

LILIAN 

I wonder! 

WILLOUGHBY 

How childish we were not to insist upon the truth ; not to 
insist upon each other living up to the truth. 

LILIAN 

There have been years wasted. 

WILLOUGHBY 

Perhaps it is a false conceit which prompts human beings 
to discard the natural laws and go in search of new ideas — 
new customs. Perhaps the world has known but one per- 
fectly mated pair — old Adam and Eve. 



MR. WILLOUGHBY CALLS 91 

LILIAN 

You are such a serious idealist, Mr. Willoughby! If 
God were to set down Adam and Eve in the heart of Lon- 
don, neither of them would again give the Garden of Eden 
for an address. Adam would make straight for the nearest 
club, and Eve, — well, poor thing, she'd of course have to 
hail a cab and go straightway to some modiste. What 
time the next morning do you suppose Adam would come 
home to Eve if he chanced to meet some of the chorus 
girls from the Gaiety that night? You are so serious, Mr. 
Willoughby! 

WILLOUGHBY 

I am serious! I am always too serious to be practical. 
I only dropped in to offer my services as a solicitor. I was 
afraid that you might wonder why Mr. Willoughby had 
failed to call — that is, if you had not heard of — 

He chokes — he sputters , like a toothless old man trying 
to articulate uncommon words. At last he blurts out: 

I am married. I married just two weeks before Aynes- 
worth died. 

Lilian stares at him, devoid of speech, and he, desperate to 
pass the awkward moment, adds: 

I'm sure that you wish me great happiness. 

LILIAN 

I do. 

She does wish him great happiness — real happiness — 
always. Her words are spoken merely to emphasize his words. 
Her hand happens to touch the music on the piano — the Pre- 
lude, and she fumbles it nervously. 



92 PASSION PLAYLETS 

WILLOUGHBY 

I could no longer exist without knowing that you still cared 
for me. I should not have called. I am sorry now that 
I came. I hoped that you would repulse me again; that 
you would make me try to forget you. 

He looks at her for a moment steadily, and then, shaking his 
head sadly, passes through the doorway, 

Lilian is looking off into endless space, her bloodless hands 
tearing the Prelude into bits as the curtain falls. 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 

Frank Morley, whom we find seated at a desk in his shanty, 
is superintending the construction of a railway through the 
wilds of the Canadian Northwest. He is conquering a vast 
wilderness. 

The shanty is a rude structure, hut its rudeness is swiftly 
forgotten when we behold the view which the large windows in 
its rear afford. We look across an almost endless stretch of 
mountainous country. In the foreground we see a partially 
constructed bridge, the two ends of which reach out like great 
arms, almost meeting over a deep ravine through which flows 
a foaming river. It is high noon and the snow-capped moun- 
tains in the distance sparkle like huge diamonds in the sun- 
light. 

Celia, Frank's wife, enters left, bearing in her hand the mail 
which has just arrived by coach from some distant railroad 
town. She pauses upon the threshold. She rarely disturbs 
her husband when he is absorbed in his work; but she brings a 
letter for him addressed in a familiar hand and her curiosity 
demands that she know its contents. She tiptoes across the 
room. 

CELIA 

Here's the mail, Frank. 

FRANK 

I didn't hear you come in. I was making some difficult 
calculations. 



96 PASSION PLAYLETS 

CELIA 

You work too hard, dear. 

She goes round the desk and lays her cool hand upon his 
burning forehead. It is the act of a thoughtful and affectionate 
wife. 

FRANK 

I have been verifying what I've proved an hundred times 
before; I've been making those fellows down on the bridge 
secure against accident — perhaps, against death. 

CELIA 

How happy I shall be when we cross this bridge! You 
are only human, after all, and your poor brain — 

FRANK 

When we cross this bridge we'll push on through the 
wilderness and build another. 

CELIA 

You cannot deceive me, Frank. I know how anxious 
you are to see this work completed. Sometimes, when you 
have not been aware of my presence, I have watched you 
while you worked. There are strange new lines in your 
face; lines which have come without time calling them. 
You are nervous; you are anxious. 

FRANK 

Come with me to the window, Celia. Do you see all those 
men, those little black specks moving about on that great 
mass of steel? They look like toys, don't they? They are 
toys — the toys with which I play my game. They are 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 97 

doing my work, building my monument, risking their lives 
every minute of the day — because they have faith in me. 



CELIA 

Frank ! 

FRANK 

I am their god. I hold their fate in the hollow of my 
hand. If I should make one false calculation they would 
all be dashed down into that foaming river, pinned under 
tons of steel. I can send them to eternity or keep them 
here, as I choose. 

CELIA 

You frighten me, Frank. 

FRANK 

My power is supreme. I alone can complete the work. 
The God of Heaven could not destroy me without retarding 
the progress of the world — without retarding the progress 
of civilization. I hold a unique position on a plane above 
normal man. I am, in fact, improving upon the creations 
of my own Creator. 

CELIA 

I shall be happy when the bridge Is — 

FRANK 

I have you and the boy — and there are hundreds of 
miles of wilderness ahead which must bow to my will — 
hundreds of miles which await my conquest. Who or, 
what can stop me? I am a god, little woman; I don't 
need any other god. 

CELIA 

You don't realize what you are saying. 



98 PASSION PLAYLETS 

FRANK 

I know the very thoughts of those fellows down there. 
See that man turn and wave to me! He has just landed 
another heavy girder. He has spent days and nights won- 
dering whether that important part would stand the strain 
upon it when it was put to the test. He worries; I know. 
I have decided that it will stand the strain; I, his god, have 
decided that he shall be granted further life when he stands 
upon the girder. 

CELIA * 

I thought that you'd be anxious to get the mail. 

FRANK 

I'd forgotten the mail. 

He returns to the desk and tears open the envelope which 
Celia has laid carefully upon the top of the small stack of 
letters, etc. 

Here is something interesting! 

CELIA 

From — 

FRANK 

From Charlie Garrison. He is coming here on — 

CELIA 

Charles Garrison! Why should he come way out here? 

FRANK 

He has a patent riveter which he would like to have me 
use on the bridge. 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 99 

CELIA 

I wonder whether he knows that we are married ! 

FRANK 

Charlie should have come out on this coach. Yes, his 
letter is dated Chicago, the nineteenth. 

CELIA 

Do you suppose he knows that we are married? 

FRANK 

It is possible he doesn't know that you are my little 
wife — in which case, we will surprise him. 
He turns to find Celia looking very serious. 
Aren't you anxious to see him again? 

CELIA 

Yes, of course I am. 

FRANK 

You used to be rather fond of Charlie. 
He adds jocularly: 

I thought I saw your face flush when I mentioned his 
name. 

CELIA 

All the girls admired him when he was at college. 

FRANK 

I was teasing, dear. I have not forgotten to be jealous, 
even with all my work and cares. 



100 PASSION PLAYLETS 

CELIA 

I love your jealousy. I want you to be jealous always. 

FRANK 

The boy binds us together forever. 

The Boy, playing out of doors, laughs heartily. 

CELIA 

Is it only because of him that you love me? 

FRANK 

You silly little woman, you can't be jealous of our own 
flesh and blood. 

Celiacs body sways slightly and he takes her in his arms. 
Do you feel faint? 

CELIA 

I'll be all right presently, dear. Leave me alone — 
please. 

FRANK 

I'll open the windows. 

Immediately the windows are opened we hear The Boy 
laugh again. 

CELIA 

What makes him laugh? 

FRANK 

He's racing up here with a man — with Charlie 
Garrison. 

CELIA 

Charles! — playing with the boy! 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM loi 

FRANK 

It hasn't taken them long to get acquainted. I never 
saw the youngster take to anybody so readily before. 

CELIA 

I've told him never to talk with strangers. 

FRANK 

Strangers? You surely do not call Charlie a stranger? 

CELIA 

I've always considered Charles Garrison a cad. In my 
heart I've hated him. 

FRANK 

A cad? You don't mean that. 

CELIA 

I have been happy ever since the day you promised that 
we'd leave all the old world behind us and come out here 
into the wilderness. 

FRANK 

But Charlie is — 

CELIA 

He is some one from the outside world — the world we 
left behind to find our happiness. He will remind you of 
the old days and you will long for them again. I don't 
want to go back. I'll never go — even with you. 

FRANK 

It is quite absurd of you to think that Charlie or any one 
else could ever take me away from my work. 



102 PASSION PLAYLETS 



CELIA 



Men are gossips, you know, just like women — and the 
boy's age might lead him to suspect that — 



FRANK 

Rubbish ! Charlie is not that sort — he'll ask no ques- 
tions — and even if he should, it is a matter too slight to 
arouse his suspicions. 

CELIA 

Frank, dear, you must listen to me. I have a woman's 
intuition. I'll do anything for you, now or any time. I'll 
love you always — you alone; I'll be the best little wife you 
could possibly wish for; I'll slave for you from morning till 
night — if you'll grant me this one thing. 

FRANK 

You ask me to promise that I'll not see him — an old 
friend? You could not ask anything more unkind, any- 
thing more foreign to you. You are overstrung or you'd 
not ask it. 

The Boy, a rosy-cheeked, golden-haired lad, looks in the 
window. 

THE BOY 

Father! 

FRANK 

What does the young man want? 

THE BOY 

There's somebody here to see you — oh, an awfully nice 
man! 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 103 

FRANK 

Show him in, son, — but don*t tell him father's name. 

THE BOY 

All right, father! 

CELIA 

You shall not see him, Frank. 

FRANK 

What is the reason for this sudden dislike? It is surely 
some trifle that — 

CELIA 

Trifle! Do you call our happiness, all that is so dear to 
us a mere trifle? 

FRANK 

I think you, dear, have been working too hard. I know 
it is difficult for you not to get overstrung sometimes, 
with so much work and no servants — and no recreation. 
I am going to take you and the boy back east for a little 
holiday after we cross this bridge. 

CELIA 

A holiday — back east ! I knew this visit would remind 
you of the old days and make you long for them again. 

FRANK 

Give me one other single reason why I should not see 
Charlie and I'll send him away. 

Celia cannot explain. She only stares at him blankly. 
Perhaps you loved him and — 



104 PASSION PLAYLETS 

Before he can complete it, Celia, with a mad cry, runs out 
of the room. {Going Left.) 

He is still staring after her when Charles Garrison enters 
{Right) carrying The Boy pig-a-back. 



CHARLES 

Frank Morley! 

FRANK 

Hello, Charlie Garrison! 

He offers his handy but his attention is still upon the 
doorway through which Celia passed. 

CHARLES 

You don't mean to tell me that you are the engineer on 
this big job? 

FRANK 

I'm the engineer — on the job. 

THE BOY 

Father, you look as if you'd seen a ghost. 

CHARLES 

So you are married and a father? 

FRANK 

Yes. Isn't he a fine specimen of young manhood? 

CHARLES 

The finest young fellow I ever saw — and I'm not saying 
it because you're his father. 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 105 

THE BOY 

Father only calls me a bad kid when there is nobody 
else here. 

CHARLES 

Children and fools always — You know the rest. 

THE BOY 

You will stand up for me, won't you, mister? 

CHARLES 

You can count on me, young fellow. But don't call me 
mister — call me Uncle Charlie. 

THE BOY 

Thanks ! Uncles and aunts are scarce out here — 'spe- 
cially at Christmas. 

FRANK 

He's a westerner; so he always says what he thinks. 

CHARLES 

Tell me, young man, are you going to be a great engineer 
like your father, or a cowboy? 

THE BOY 

I'm going to be a cowboy. 

CHARLES 

Father should buy you a pony so you'll learn to ride. 



io6 PASSION PLAYLETS 

THE BOY 

You can take me pig-a-back while you're here. 

CHARLES 

Good! I'll be the bucking broncho. 

FRANK 

Run along, boy, and when we come out presently I'll 
break the rule and carry you pig-a-back myself. 

THE BOY 

I'd rather have Uncle Charlie take me — 'cause he knows 
just how to hold my feet so I won't fall off. 

CHARLES 

I'll give you another ride after while. 

THE BOY 

You are a great Uncle Charlie, mister, — the best uncle 
I ever had. 
He exits {Right). 

CHARLES 

He is surely a fine little chap. Children usually get on 
my nerves, but I could play with him all day. 

FRANK 

Are you married? 

CHARLES 

I've no wife, no home — nothing really worth while. 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 107 

FRANK 

I don't suppose that a mighty traveller like you needs a 
home. 

CHARLES 

I have travelled all over the globe, but the biggest sur- 
prise of my life was to find you way out here. How did 
you ever get here? 

FRANK 

Built my way out, — bridges — tunnels — 

CHARLES 

I thought I was at the end of the earth when they 
dumped me out of that coach down at the foot of the moun- 
tain. I surely did puff and snort climbing up. I'm not 
in as good training as I used to be at college. 

Frank is still watching the doorway through which Celia 
disappeared. 

Where's your wife? 

FRANK 

She'll be out presently — that is, if she feels better. She 
suffered a little heart attack a while ago. The altitude 
here doesn't quite agree with her. 

CHARLES 

I'm anxious to meet Mrs. Frank Morley. 

FRANK 

You shall meet her. 

CHARLES 

You have a cozy little home, for a place of its kind. 



io8 PASSION PLAYLETS 

FRANK 

It's a knock-down affair. We take it along when we 
move. We live in the same rooms on the banks of the Sas- 
katchewan that we occupied on the banks of the Mississippi, 
when I worked down there — before this big job came my 
way. 

CHARLES 

What a novel idea! But don't you get lonely sometimes 
and long for the bright lights — the old life? 

FRANK 

I have changed considerably since our college days. I 
live only for my work now; that is why I am willing to 
plod along way out here in this wilderness. 

CHARLES 

Perhaps you have found the perfect life, after all! 

FRANK 

I can take a drawing of some great work and play with 
it for hours. I can change it here and there, figure it out, 
until it seems to grow into the structure itself. I seem to 
hold great spans of bridges in my hands. I seem to dig 
great tunnels under rivers which rush along madly like cat- 
aracts. I plan and seem to do all this; I pass my drawings 
on to the men that toil and I see my dreams come true. 
Don't you think there is pleasure in that? I laugh at 
the river which has balked generations of engineers but 
which cannot balk me. I laugh at the mighty trestle whose 
weight I alone can distribute properly. I am the man who 
builds! God created a vast wilderness; I come along and 






THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 109 

civilize it. Don't you think I find the joy of living in 
•that? There is so much of me in my work that if it 
should fail, my heart would fail with it. It is a part of 
me — it is all of me. 

CHARLES 

You certainly have become an ambitious devil! 

FRANK 

I am an engineer, an engineer who has risen to the 
position of a god. I am creating a new world out here. 

CHARLES 

How strange it is that one always finds the dreamers 
out in some natural paradise where everything is so very 
real. 

FRANK 

I dream, perhaps, but my dreams come true. 

CHARLES 

Looking out of the window retrospectively. 
If I had a home and a wife — something, some one to 
fight for — 

FRANK 

Why not get a wife? 

CHARLES 

Did you ever hear of a ladies' man at college who didn't 
live and die a bachelor? 

FRANK 

You used to be rather fond of Celia Kane. 



no PASSION PLAYLETS 

CHARLES 

Celia Kane was surely a great little girl — 
He laughs, 
— for a college town. 

FRANK 

I don't understand. 

CHARLES 

She was full of fun and all that, but — 

FRANK 

The jolly, pleasing type? 

CHARLES 

She was a good fellow. I was young and — well, I fell 
head over heels in love with her. 

FRANK 

And did Celia love you in return? 

CHARLES 

Don't make me laugh, Frank! You know what a serious 
affair we had. 

FRANK 

I didn't know. 

CHARLES 

Perhaps you were so absorbed in your studies that you 
missed the small town talk. 

He turns to find Frank scowling blackly. 

I know you never did like fellows who gossiped, and 
believe me, I'm not telling you this to make sport of Celia 
Kane. I'm not a cad. I'd kill you if you smiled. I 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM iii 

thought I could pass it over lightly but I can't. I'm seek- 
ing your pity for us both, for when one laughs at her, one 
laughs at me, too. 

FRANK 

You have aroused my curiosity. You must complete 
the story. I promise you that I'll not laugh. 

CHARLES 

If I could live out here and never see any of the old 
crowd again I would do it gladly. 

FRANK 

Why should you wish to remain here? 

CHARLES 

To make sure that we'd never meet again, Celia and I. 

FRANK 

You think that she — 

CHARLES 

Loves me? No. Hates me? No. Thinks of me some- 
times? Yes. 

FRANK 

Why? 

CHARLES 

Because she is a woman. When I got out of the coach 
down there I said to myself, ' There is no danger of my 
meeting Celia to-day; no danger of my placing her in an 
embarrassing position — so I shall enjoy at least these 
few hours of life.' I breathed freely the rich air. I looked 



112 PASSION PLAYLETS 

at the mountains with their white caps all ablaze in the 
sunlight. I thanked Heaven that I was alive. I know that 
you think me a fellow of foolish moods and fancies, but 
I am sincere when I say that the bright lights back east 
could never attract me again if I remained here for her 
sake. 

FRANK 

How would that protect — the woman? 

CHARLES 

We'd never meet — never betray by some careless look 
or word the secret which is ours — the bond which binds 
us. 

FRANK 

A bond which binds you and — and this woman. 

CHARLES 

I've never heard whether Celia married. My father 
would give me no money, and I, a penniless youth, could 
offer her nothing. I was a fool not to marry her any- 
way! But I wasn't a cad — I swear to Heaven I wasn't! 
It was Celia herself who persuaded me to obey my father's 
orders and go away. She loved me, she wished me to have 
a great career, and she realized that the discovery of our 
secret would mean my ruin as well as hers. I have searched 
for her secretly — everywhere — but without finding a 
single clue to her whereabouts. The people back in the 
college town told me that she had disappeared — suddenly 
— from off the face of the earth, for all they knew. I'd 
have located her if I could in order to avoid her, in order 
to choose a home for myself on the opposite side of the globe, 



XI 07 



THE UNNECESSARY ATOM 113 

where I'd not run the risk of meeting her sometime in the 
presence of some good unsuspecting husband whom she 
might have married for protection. But God knows I'd 
gladly give my Hfe to see her once again — to see her and 
our — 

Frank, a madman, is on his feet, his hands spread like 
talons reaching out blindly for Charles' throat. 



FRANK 

It's a lie! It's all a d 

His muscles stiffen; his body sways; he sprawls headlong 
upon the floor. 

CHARLES 

What's the matter, Frank? Is it your heart? Speak 
to me! 

CELIA 

Running into the room screaming hysterically. 
Frank! The bridge is falling! The bridge is falling and 
they're all going down with it! 

CHARLES 

Celia! You're his wife? My God, I didn't know! 

THE BOY 

Appearing outside the window in the bright sunlight. 
Look, mother, look! 
He laughs and claps his small hands. 
What fun! What fun! Father's bridge is all tumbling 
down! 



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